Open Mind, Open Heart
by slytherinphoenix116
Summary: When she is held captive by Albus Dumbledore’s killer, can Ginny see past the harsh mask of a man who has endured so much pain that he is afraid to feel?  A tale of redemption and compassion, of forgiving others and learning how to forgive yourself.
1. Prologue: A Light in the Dark

A/N: You probably know this already, but I'm not J.K. Rowling, just a slightly obsessed writer who's a bit of an insomniac. I own nothing except the plot..so don't sue me. Please! places Jo's lawyers under the imperius curse

A BIG thank you to my lovely beta Brenna; without her this wouldn't be possible.

The wind was warm as it whipped through the flaming red hair of the young woman lying on the rocky shore, staring out at the waves coursing through the lake in front of her. The continual motion was soothing, almost hypnotizing in its fluidity and grace. Beyond the frothing water, Ginny could clearly see the outline of the enormous castle which lay beyond it, light emanating softly from its many windows. Earlier that day, the now empty water was filled with boats, which were filled in turn with first years making their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time, their eyes wide with awe. She remembered the day, seven years ago, when she too had made this journey for the first time. Now, looking back, she couldn't imagine being that naive, that carefree, that innocent.

"Ginny? A gentle voice shook her from her reverie and she turned her gaze to the bright green eyes of the man next to her.

"Sorry" she said, embarrassed that she had almost forgotten that Harry was was right beside her "It's just the waves..they're so beautiful" she gushed.

"Just like you" he murmured, turning to look at her and smiling, although he seemed a bit preoccupied. Although she knew the happiness displayed on his face was genuine, she could still see traces of pain and worry hidden in his eyes, mementos of the war that had shaped his life.

Although he never mentioned it, always trying to convey hope and raise morale among his friends and allies, she knew without needing to ask that there were some days when he had no idea what to do, knew that he had been given much more responsibility than was his fair share in life. Ginny smiled back, laying her head on his shoulder for both his comfort and her own. Looking back at the castle which had been her second home for much of the last seven years, she realized how strange it felt not to be a student anymore, not to be a child. She had been inducted into the order just a few months ago, as Harry had the year before .

Harry and Ginny, along with Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Luna, had all returned to the school for a week or so, to reunite and, unofficially, to try to resurrect "Dumbledore's Army" of their fifth year. When Harry had told McGonagall of the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job after Dumbledore's death, she hadn't known what to do.

"What do you expect me to do, Potter?" she had cried "I can't just appoint someone without telling them, and no one will want the job once I _**do**_ tell them."

Just as she had expected, she had been unable to find a teacher. Each of the other teachers had tried to incorporate bits of defensive magic to substitute for the lack of a Defense teacher, but the curriculum was nowhere as extensive as it should be, especially in times like these, with Voldemort on the loose and rapidly gaining power. Because of this, Harry had offered to come to the school for a few days this year to convince the students to teach themselves defensive magic by banding together in a group, each helping the other, as he had in his fifth year.

He planned to help excite and unite the students, telling them of the danger that would face them both outside and inside the walls of Hogwarts, encouraging them, and teaching them some of the more advanced magic their peers would be unable to assist them with. Ron and Hermione had, of course, insisted upon helping, along with Neville and Luna. The six of them, counting Harry and Ginny, had taken to calling themselves the "Junior Order" after the fight at the Ministry, and, although all six were now full fledged members, the name had stuck.

When Harry felt that he had sufficiently started the ball rolling and that the group could continue without his assistance, he could, with a clean conscience, return to the matter at hand: finding and destroying Voldemort's remaining Horcruxes. He had, since learning of them, been able to destroy the cup of Helga Hufflepuff as well as a wand once belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw that he had ascertained to be a Horcrux. As Dumbledore had already destroyed Slytherin's ring, and Harry had taken care of the diary in his second year, Harry suspected that there were still two Horcruxes that remained, since Dumbledore believed there were six total.

Ginny knew very little about Harry's search, for he only told them exactly what they needed to know, and little else. She understood why, of course. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, it was just that, if the information was in their minds, Voldemort could doubtless find a way to access it, whether through Veritaserum, Legilimency, or good old fashioned torture.

Harry shifted beside her, and she turned to look at him. It looked to her as though he was looking past her eyes and seeing straight into her soul. Suddenly, Harry took a deep breath and began to speak in a quiet and gentle tone, his eyes never wavering from hers.

"Ginny, I..." He stopped, sighed and began again. "Ginny, I love you. In my sixth year, I tried to forget that. I was so scared that something would happen to you because of me. I tried to forget, but I couldn't"

Ginny nodded. For the last two years they had both been desperately trying to be noble, to distance themselves for each others sakes, but they had had little success... Every time she saw him, she couldn't help but remember how she felt about him, and she was relatively certain that he felt the same way.

He fumbled around in his jacket before pulling out a small parcel. Her heart began to beat faster, fluttering around her chest like a butterfly.

"I couldn't forget that I love you, and I hope that you still love me"

Ginny nodded, smiling broadly.

"I need to know…I need to reassure myself that life will be different after we defeat Voldemort. I need to remind myself that there will be a time when we aren't constantly looking over our shoulders to see if there are Death Eaters are around. I know that we can't do anything until after Voldemort is gone, we can''t even act any different or tell anyone, but I have to know. Ginny, will you marry me? " he asked, opening the parcel to reveal a exquisitely crafted ring with a bright blue sapphire twinkling in its center.

His words hung in the air for a split second before she threw her arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time. She had always hoped, always dreamed that this day would come, ever since she was just ten years old. Of course, when she had first met Harry, it was nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush, the wild fantasy of a little girl. She hadn't known him, or at least, hadn't known more than his name, his face, and the fame that went along with both.

When she was just eleven, he had saved her life, risking her life for hers even though she was the on who had been weak enough to be tricked by a diary into doing horrendous, horrible things. Even after he rescued her, after he knew the truth, he was kind to her, not once blaming her for what had happened.

Through the years they shared at school, her admiration blossomed from hero worship into a fiercely strong friendship and trust, born of evenings spent laughing in the common room, lunches spent discussing Quidditch, and near misses with death more times than she wished to count. Slowly, ever so slowly, their friendship had changed into something that was much more, an even stronger bond of love, trust, and understanding.

It's a funny thing, the progression of a relationship from simple friendship into the complex world of emotions which surpassed those of mere friends. The transition occurs so gradually that neither person realizes how far down the path towards love they have traversed until they look back and see how far they have come.

She would always remember the first time her lips met his; she would remember it for the rest of her life. The common room had been crowded, but at that moment they had been the only people on the fact of the earth. The noise had been overwhelming, full of excitement, but at that moment all sound seemed to fall from the sky.

Another moment indelibly engraved upon Ginny's memory was the day Harry told her that they couldn't be together any longer, that it would put her too much at risk. She remembered it clearly because it was the day her heart tore in two. She understood why he did it, of course; even at fifteen she was anything but naïve. But even so, there was some part of her that wanted to shout, to yell, to throw herself at him like a toddler and thrown a temper tantrum, screaming "NO", telling him that she didn't care, that she didn't mind the risk.

But she didn't. She knew in her heart that if she were killed, he would never forgive himself. He already carried a self imposed burden of guilt after Sirius' death; the last think he needed was something more to feel guilty about. So she had nodded, had said she understood, had agreed, even though that little part of her was still screaming hysterically, begging to be acknowledged even as she tried in vain to push it still deeper within herself.

She and Harry had seen each other, of course, but they both had been putting on an act, performing a show for the rest of the world to see. To anyone else, it would look like they were friends, nothing more. To anyone else, the scars on their hearts would remain safe and invisible, hidden from the world.

But, finally, this day had come. She had lived this moment out before, in her dreams and her daydreams, but finally, it had happened for real. Ginny knew that she should question him, ask why he had changed his mind, ask him any number of pertinent, logical questions. But she couldn't. That little part of her, the part that she had kept hidden for so long, took control of her body, her heart finally escaping the harness of her mind.

"Yes, of course!" she replied emphatically, tears of joy streaming down her face.

The look on Harry's face was one of happiness, of a long held hope finally coming to fruition. Without another word, he leaned over and gently pressed his lips to hers, an echo of the kiss that had changed both of their lives so many months ago. She kissed him back, all the pent up emotion and pain and joy jumbled up inside her escaping through the kiss. Once again, it was a moment that she wished with all her heart could last forever, even though she knew it was a stupid hope. She knew that they would have to endure pain, more suffering, more of what was inevitable in the course of war. But now they both had something more, some light in the gloom that seemed to dominate much of their lives. Now, they could look forward and have something to look forward _to_.

She couldn't remember a time when she had been this happy. To her, it was absurd and wonderful that happiness, love, joy, could still exist when danger hung over their heads like a dark cloud. But she knew that if they lived each day in fear, Voldemort would have won. Dumbledore had told Harry many times that the power that he possessed was his ability to love, a power that Voldemort lacked. The strength of the Order and those on their side came mainly from the fact that they had something to fight for, their love, their happiness, their joy. If they let him take that away, they would become just like him and his Death Eaters. After all, she knew that Dumbledore would be happy to see that there was a little more love in the world.

A/N OK. There's the first chapter/prologue. I have up to the fourth chapter/third chapter written, but am experiencing a severe case of writers block. When I was diagnosed, I was told the best cure was many many reviews. So please, help cure me! Review!! I will respond to anyone who reviews as long as I have some way to contact you, otherwise I'll probably respond in notes.


	2. Chapter 1: Just Another Day

A/N You know the drill. Making no money..doing this purely for my own enjoyment...chucking gnomes out of the window at high speed. I just wanted to make sure you were listening :) Anyway, more thanks to Brenna for betaing this fic, I am very grateful.

The early morning sunlight streaming through a nearby window awoke Ginny earlier than usual the next morning, its brilliance penetrating her lightly closed eyes. She glanced sleepily over at Hermione and Luna, with whom she was sharing her temporary quarters at Hogwarts. After ascertaining that both were still sound asleep, the fiery haired young woman pulled on a freshly laundered robe hanging from a hook at her bedside and slipped quietly out the door into the adjoining hallway.

As she made her way to the larger room down the passage, which had been converted into a crude dining room with a table and a few chairs for their stay, she heard laughter and voices echoing from within it. She could heard her parents, but she also distinguished two other voices, voices that she knew well. In a few steps she had arrived at the door to the chamber, and after pushing open the door, her eyes confirmed her earlier suspicions. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks were indeed sitting around the table with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin's hand resting affectionately on the shoulder of the pink haired young witch seated next to him.

Although the two had been married almost a year previously, Nymphadora still insisted upon being called Tonks. Ginny remembered vividly the conversation they had had on Tonks' wedding day, when Ginny had mentioned the matter of her name.

"_You already know how I feel about 'Nymphadora'" she had begun, wrinkling her nose in disgust, "and people can't bloody well call me 'Lupin'; even I would get confused!". _

So the decision had been made: Tonks would, legally, be Nymphadora Lupin, but would be known to all who knew her as Tonks.

All four looked up at her with smiles as she entered the room and pulled an empty chair up to the table in the space between Tonks and her mother.

"Good morning, darling!" her mum exclaimed, looking her over in a loving, but searching, glance, "Did you sleep well?" Without waiting for the answer, she continued, "As you can see, Lupin and Tonks have come to pay us a little visit."

"I can see that!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly. "To what do we owe the honor of this visit?" she continued in a jokingly formal manner.

Tonks chuckled, "Well," she replied, "life was getting a bit boring, so we decided to come and see our favorite family at Hogwarts. There's always something exciting happening here!"

Now it was Ginny's turn to laugh, albeit wryly. She very much doubted that life had been anything close to boring for the Auror, in these times of such wide spread confusion and chaos. Additionally, the quiet, kind eyed man sitting beside her was a werewolf, and used his "furry little problem" to the Order's advantage, attempting to sway other werewolves to ally themselves with the order instead of with Voldemort. Regardless, she was glad that they had come.

"Would you like some pumpkin juice?" Lupin inquired calmly, offering the pitcher to her.

"I would love some." She replied, smiling broadly as she took one of the glasses arranged in the middle of table and began pouring the brown liquid into it. While Ginny had her eyes on the pitcher, her mother and Tonks shot each other an almost imperceptible glance.

After several moments of pleasant conversation, Lupin got up from the table, announcing "I'll go wake the boys. They can't have much of a lie-in today, you all have a long day ahead of you today." Rather quickly, Mr. Weasley decided it would be useful if he accompionanied Lupin. Ginny could have sworn she heard a small thump, like that of someone being kicked in the shin.

As soon as the two men were out of earshot, the two older women rounded on Ginny.

"So…is there anything you'd like to _share _with us?" her mother asked suggestively.

"Yeah," added Tonks, grinning widely "any _news_?"

'They couldn't know already, could they?' Ginny thought incredulously. It had only been a few hours! Weighing her choices, Ginny, knowing her mother, realized that she would find out anyway, and Ginny wanted this bit of news to come from her mouth.

"If you must know" Ginny replied carefully, stretching out her words for effect, "Harry proposed to me last night" Upon saying this, for what she now realized was the first time, her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink; she felt like her face was on fire. "But we aren't making any plans yet, we want to wait until things ..calm down a bit first" she said, choosing her words carefully.

Their excitement was easily visible, written across their faces as both opened their mouths to respond. But," she added quickly, heading them off "you can't tell anyone, not even Remus or Dad" looking pointedly at the elated women beside her. "It's not that I don't trust them, but the more people that know, the bigger the chance that someone who is an informant of You-Kn….Voldemort could hear. I don't want to think on what he might do with that information." She finished, shuddering inwardly. "By the way, how the bloody- I mean, how in the world did you know?" Ginny asked, a bit confused.

There were tears glistening in Mrs. Weasley's eyes as she replied "Oh, my dear, I could see it in your face the moment you walked into the room, you were positively glowing. I obviously didn't know for sure what the occasion was, but I had a pretty good idea." "I just can't believe it, my little baby, all grown up and engaged to be married! If Ron would just-" but she stopped herself short, smiling to cover the awkward pause in conversation. However, Ginny had been around her mother enough recently to know exactly what she was trying to say; something along the lines of 'If Ron would just propose to Hermione already.." It was obvious to Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and basically everyone else who was ever around the two of them that they both loved each other, but both were either too stubborn, too proud, or too afraid of rejection to even talk of marriage.

"Congratulations Ginny!" Tonks exclaimed, giving her a quick sisterly hug. "But," she continued, "if you don't want anyone to know about you and Harry, you might want to do something about that" pointing to the ornately decorated ring woven beautifully around her finger.

"Oh, I guess you do have a point there, don't you?" remarked Ginny, laughing at her own stupidity, I _will_ have to fix that" concealment spell that I have yet to name she said, and the ring vanished from sight, although she could still feel it on her finger.

Footsteps approached from the hallway. "Remember, not a word" Ginny hissed quietly as the door opened and Harry, Ron, and Neville walked in, looking tired and a bit annoyed at being awoken at such an early hour.

"Bloody hell, it's still the middle of the night" Ron grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Harry smiled, looking directly at Ginny, who reddened slightly before smiling herself and becoming very interested in her breakfast.

The day was indeed long and hard, but it was also very satisfying. Most of the students seemed to realize that learning the kind of defense Harry proposed wasn't like their other classes, where the curriculum sometimes seemed useless, learning only for the sake of learning. Adding to this, in the last more than five years since Voldemort had returned, many of the students had been touched directly or indirectly by Voldemort, especially those old enough to recall Dumbledore's presence as Headmaster before his death. One student in particular, a fifth year named Jessica Bones, seemed to be a possible candidate for a future leader, combining raw intelligence with the drive to work hard, as well as impressive skills when dealing with other students. Their determination and willingness to learn seemed to have the effect on the four young adults of a drop of water to a man walking in a desert, providing hope where it was sorely needed. Even Harry, who, understandably, was generally the soberest of the four, was visibly thrilled at their success. As they exited the castle, Ginny asked "Hey, Harry, lets go down to Hogsmeade and get a drink at the Three Broomsticks. We can celebrate how well the DA is going."

Harry replied dubiously "I don't know. Wouldn't it be a better idea to stay inside the castle?"

"Come on, mate" Ron had said "Think how long it's been since we've been there."

Ginny grinned, knowing that Ron's main interest in the Three Brooksticks came in the form of its shapely barwoman.

"Yeah, Harry, you could do with some fun." Ginny chimed in, "It's just for one night."

Harry looked from one of his friends faces to the next, and then sighed.

"I'm not really going to have much say in the matter, am I?" he asked, a smile playing across his lips

"Nope" the other three replied simultaneously. Each grabbed one of Harry's arms and they walked down to Hogsmeade together.

When they reached the Three Broomsticks, Harry and Ginny found a seat while Hermione and went to the bar to order them all drinks. Ginny glanced around the cozy pub. It truly _had_ been a long time since they had been here. The last time she could remember the four of them here was before Dumbledore's death, the death that had changed everything.

Suddenly, Ginny heard a voice from outside the open door.

"Ginny, Harry, help m-" came Luna's unmistakable voice from outside the door, cut off before she could finish her sentence. It seemed that Harry could hear the voice as well, for he abruptly got up out of his seat. Ginny followed him. "What do you think could be wrong?" Ginny asked him, trying to disguise the anxiety in her voice as they crossed under the threshold. As soon as they were outside, they knew that something was _terribly_ wrong. Luna was nowhere to be seen, in fact, there was noone else in the street.

"Harry, maybe we should go back ins-" But she was cut off as a jet of red light sped past her ear colliding into the a nearby wall. Harry pushed her into a corner out of sight and whispered "Stay here! I'm going to get help". Pulling his wand from within his robes, Harry made a break for the door of the Three Broomsticks. Suddenly, another jet of red light, this time from the opposite direction came out of nowhere and hit Harry in the back, knocking him unconscious.

There was no time for thought, no time for reason. Her only conscious realization was that she needed to get to Harry to safety, for his sake, for her sake, for everyone's sake. Acting almost automatically, Ginny jumped from her hiding spot, concentrating only on Harry. Her foot was caught by a sharp stone shattered from the pavement by the rampant spells richocheting around the alley. She knew her leg was bleeding, but she didn't feel pain, only increased determination. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, she reached his unconscious body, snatching her locket from her chest and pressing it tightly into his palm, closing his unresponsive fingers around the cold metal. As the hand she clutched disappeared from his grasp, she suddenly felt several sharp bursts of pain as several spells impacted her body and her world went black.

A/N It will probably be a day or two before I post chapter 2/3 (depending on how you're counting), so...that leaves YOU plenty of time to read and review. Please review! Feed the writer!


	3. Chapter 2: The First Awakening

A/N: Hello to anyone reading this! There's a slight language warning for this chapter, but nothing too bad. I would like to thank my lovely beta Brenna, I couldn't do this without her. Oh, one more thing. I don't live in Britain, I'm not one of the richest woman in the world, and I'm not a big name publishing company. Basically, I don't own these books, I just have fun playing around with her characters. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Ginny drifted in and out of consciousness, remembering only vague bits and pieces of the following day or so. She could remember being dragged helpless and bound across a cold stone floor, remember a high, cold, terrifying voice. She remembered hearing cold laughter, and feeling a sharp pain in her head as something hard collided with her skull.

She recalled other, less painful sensations as well; a cooling substance being carefully applied to her injured leg, a cold, pale hand gently opening her mouth to pour icy water down her throat.

When she finally awoke, she found herself lying in a bed in a thoroughly unfamiliar room, seemingly alone. Wild, half crazed thoughts began to scurry through her mind. 'Where was she? Was this some room at Hogwarts that she had never seen? At Grimmauld Place? And where the bloody hell was her wand?'

Ginny scoured her foggy memory, trying to find an answer. She remembered going into Hogsmeade with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She remembered going outside with Harry to escape the heat of the pub. And then it came to her. Now she remembered the attack, remembered Harry lying helpless on the cold ground, remembered saving him, remembered those spells hitting her back, making her black out.

Ginny swore under her breath and as she realized what must have happened to her. She had been captured by the people who had been attacking her Harry, who most likely Death Eaters. This was no Order safehouse, she realized, but most likely the home of one of the Death Eaters who ambushed the two. She fought desperately with herself, with the icy fear within her chest.

'_Come on'_ Ginny thought' _I'm supposed to be a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake! I'm supposed to be brave! I'm supposed to be bloody courageous!'_

Another thought, slightly more hopeful, entered her mind

'_At least it's _me_ who got captured, and not Harry.' _The wizarding world couldn't have lost Harry, and to tell the truth, she couldn't have lived with herself if he had died while it had been her power to save him.

She tried to sit up to assess the situation she was in, but the slightest movement sent pain through every fiber of her body. She sucked in a sharp breath. Merlin's beard, that had hurt! What had those sadistic bastards done to her?

_'Alright, Weasley,'_ she told herself_, 'calm down. It won't do anybody any good for you to start panicking now.'_

Ginny gave a long controlled sigh. She needed something to focus on other her fear, so she began looking more closely around the room.

She was lying in a low bed, and the room around her was dark, dusty, and looked like it hadn't been used in quite a long time. From a small window on her left shone a small ray of sunlight trying to push its way into the darkened room. Bookshelves filled with old, thick volumes covered the wall directly in front of her, with a door on her right.

Abruptly, something stirred in the corner of the room next to the bookshelves. A bit startled, she focused in on what she had previously assumed to be a shadow, and to her dismay, she realized it was not a shadow at all, but a dark haired man, a man whom she recognized all too well.

"You," Ginny sputtered, the fear she had felt before turning instantly to cold anger. The man, realizing that she was awake, snapped shut the book he had been reading, rose from his chair, and strode across the room toward her.

She couldn't believe her eyes. There, before her, was the man Harry hated almost as much as Voldemort himself, the man who had betrayed the Order, the man who had murdered Albus Dumbledore. There was something Ginny had been longing to say to him ever since that night two years ago, and, reasoning that she had nothing to lose, she finally said it, or, rather, shouted it. "YOU EVIL, MURDERING BASTARD," she yelled, disregarding the sharp pain shooting through her head as her face reddened to match the color of her disheveled hair. "HE TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU KILLED HIM!" By now she was breathing heavily, her narrowed chestnut brown eyes boring into his black ones.

"That will be quite enough." Severus Snape snapped icily, his dark eyes flashing. He pulled his wand from within his robes, directed it at Ginny, and before she had time to think, cried "_Langlok_." It was as though someone had stuffed a gag around Ginny's mouth; she could still breath, but when she attempted to speak, nothing could escape her lips.

Even if she wanted to get up and make a run for it, and from what she'd felt before it would be agony to do so, she would be wandless and confronting a man who not only _had _a wand, but was undoubtably much more skilled at using it than she was. It seemed she had no choice but to hear him out, so she decided to content herself with giving him a scathing frown.

"Now that it is quiet," Snape drawled silkily, pausing slightly to add effect to his words, " there are a few things I need to say to you without interruption."

"As you have doubtless guessed" he began, his voice riddled with an emotion she could only guess was contempt, "you were captured by Death Eaters the night that Mr. Potter and yourself were attacked. When you were brought before him, the Dark Lord has decided that, rather than kill you straight away, you are to be held captive until such time that he decides what to do with you."

Snape took a deep breath before continuing. "I can only guess that he knows how torturous it will be for Mr. Potter to have no idea where you are, for him to spend every waking moment obsessed with your return, guilt stricken that he let you be captured."

Ginny felt as though someone had knocked all the breath out of her. _That _she hadn't thought of, although now that Snape mentioned it, she couldn't believe she hadn't considered it. She knew that Harry had a very over developed guilt complex, and he blamed himself when his friends were hurt. No, No, NO! Harry couldn't become distracted! Not now, not when they were so close! She couldn't bear the thought that he would fail, putting everything the Order worked so hard for in jeopardy, all because of her stupidity.

Snape continued coldly. "For some reason unfathomable to me, the Dark Lord has decided that you are to remain here until he finds some use for you. I assume this is because he knows this house is Unplottable, and as I am already a fugitive from the law, I am...experienced at concealing myself. Do not try to escape. If you are stupid enough to try, the wards on this house will leave you incapacitated for a week." There was no emotion in his voice, rather a calm statement of fact.

Ginny felt as though she would be sick at the thought of being trapped in a house,with this man, essentially powerless. He had proved two years ago that he was capable of murder, twho knew what else he was capable of. As these thoughts raced haphazardly through her mind, she remembered too late Snape's skill at Legilimency.

Snape recoiled the slightest bit before saying more quietly, "You will be in no danger from me while you are within these walls. Just because I am a Death Eater does not mean I take pleasure from rape."

Ginny was comforted only slightly by this statement. After all, Death Eaters in general, and this Death Eater in particular, weren't exactly known for their truthfulness. She shifted slightly on the bed, but as she did so, her head pulsed once more with sharp pain, making her flinch.

Snape's sharp eyes darted to her before reaching for a green glass bottle on a nearby table and handing it to her. "Drink this. It will help with the pain."

Ginny lifted one eyebrow incredulously, as if to say "You expect me to drink anything _you _give me?"

Correctly reading her reluctance, he sighed, "Miss Weasley, do use common sense! If I had wanted to poison you, I could have done so during the last three days you lay unconscious. Besides, do you really think me stupid enough to disobey the Dark Lord's direct orders?"

Grudgingly, Ginny realized that he was right. Although she hated Snape, she knew him to be very intelligent, and directly disobeying an order from Voldemort would indeed be the equivalent of suicide. Bracing herself, she poured the potion into her mouth, feeling a warm, tickling sensation as it made its was down her throat. A moment later, she could feel the pain in her head beginning to wane.

Picking up his wand once more, the Snape said, _"Liberas_" under his breath, and she felt the invisible gag being removed from her mouth.

Ginny attempted to speak, but nothing more than "What th-." came out, as she suddenly felt immensely tired, as though a soft, warm blanket was being pressed down over her mind, imploring her to just close her eyes and drift away to sleep. '_He's given me a sleeping potion!.'_

she realized, angry at the thought of being unconscious and helpless once again.

For a few moments, Ginny fought the urge to sleep, but soon she realized it was inevitable. All she could do was concentrate all her energy on keeping her eyes open, not taking her eyes off her captor until it was absolutely necessary to do so.

Snape studied Ginny for a minute or two, his black eyes boring into hers, before he turned and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Finally, Ginny allowed her eyes to close, sighing at the sensation of warmth and comfort induced by the potion even as doubts began to form in the rational part of her mind.

'_Why was he helping her? Why would he give her something to lessen her pain? Wouldn't he want her as weak as possible for whatever Voldemort had planned?'_

These were some of Ginny's last conscious thoughts as she fell asleep once more, even more confused than when she had awoken.

A/N I hope you like the chapter! Please, just push that little button down there and review; it's not hard! The next chapter should be up soon, within a few days or so, as I;m just cleaning it up right now. Until then, read, review, and hopefully enjoy.


	4. Chapter 3: Looking Back

_A/N I own nothing except my obsession and my insomnia. Thank you to rainfromheaven and Riality, who reviewed. This fic will switch POV a bit out of necessity, but it will be clear who is speaking. I hope you enjoy! Everything (with the exception of authors notes) in italics is a flashback_

"Damn her!" Assured that Ginny Weasley was sleeping soundly in the next room as the result of a sleeping potion he had just slipped her, Severus Snape stormed into his study, seething with rage. He cursed the girl.

Why?! Why did she have to be so noble?! Why did she have to get herself captured?! He didn't want to think about what the Dark Lord would do to her. He would torture her, make her scream until her lungs were raw, and then he would kill her. The bastard delighted in it, took perverse pleasure from inflicting pain on others, especially those less powerful than himself.

'Just some more blood on my hands,' he thought, a wry smile completely devoid of emotion flitting across his face.

He bent over the chest of drawers in the corner of the room, his back hunched, his black hair falling in sheets over his face. Slowly, he lifted his head to confront his face in the mirror which hung crookedly on the wall. A wave of hatred overtook the pale man as he saw his own greasy black hair, hooked nose, and sallow skin reflected back at him.

The tradition of innocent people being hurt because of him started when he was just six years old, when he had first begun to show signs of magic. His father had been something of a religious zealot, which was a bit hypocritical of him considering his strong fondness for alcohol and violence, and any combination of the two. The feeling of terror that had shot through Snape when his father saw him perform magic chilled Snape even today.

_"You filthy little heathen!" his father shouted, and the trembling Severus could smell the whiskey on his breath. He had continued then, in a voice that was softer, but infinitely more frightening "You're practicing in the devil's work, so I think I'll send you to hell, where you belong." _

_Tobias Snape lifted his hand above his head, and Severus squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself, paralyzed with fear. _

"_Stop!" said another voice, this time female. Both her voice and her body were trembling in the presence of her much stronger husband, but she held her ground. "It isn't the devil's work. I can do magic too, and many other people can as well. The gift has obviously been passed on to Severus"_

"_Gift?" Tobias yelled incredulously, "this boy has been cursed! And now I see exactly where the fault lies!" His icy gaze left Severus and traveled to room to land on Eileen Prince Snape. "You've put some hind of hocus pocus trick on him! You'll pay, woman!" With that, Tobias charged at his wife and struck at her face with his fist, hard. _

_Severus stood motionless for a moment, too shocked to even think, before his survival instincts took over and he took cover behind a couch. He wanted to do something, to run out and help his mother, but he knew it would be pointless. _

_His father was much bigger and stronger than him, and he knew that venturing out boldly would accomplish nothing but getting himself hurt along with his mother. She had done this to protect him, that much he knew. If he got himself hurt now, her standing up for him would have been pointless. And so he stayed motionless,, wanting desperately to turn away from the horror taking place in front of him, but unable to do so._

_Then, he caught his mother's eye, just for a second. She mouthed one word to him before her body contorted once more in pain as Tobias landed a kick on her side. "Run!". _

_And so Severus ran. He ran faster and longer than he ever had in his life, and it felt like, as long as he kept running, he would be safe._

_When he felt a stitch beginning to form in his side, he found himself a church, and, not knowing what else to do, pulled open the heavy wooden door guarding the entrance and threw himself inside. His chest heaved, and he realized with a jolt that it wasn't from exhaustion, but from sobbing. The noise seemed to attract attention, and a woman in a long black dress and head covering hurried to see what was wrong._

"_Shh" she murmured, kneeling down in front of him. "Everything will be alright. Just calm yourself. Shh". She pulled him into a gentle embrace, and after a few moments he opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed unwilling to come out properly. _

"_M-My mother!" he gasped out at last., "Sh-she's d-d-" He knew that what he was trying to say was the truth, as much as he wanted to deny it, but he couldn't bring himself to say it, because saying it would make it real. His father had done things like this before, but never before had he been so angry, or so drunk on the same night. "She's dead," he finished finally, another stab of pain going through him at saying it out loud._

_The woman, who was a young nun living in the church nunnery, was horrified. She knew enough about children to know when one was positively traumatized, and she felt sick at the thought of what this child must have witnessed.. _

"_I'm so sorry, child. But if you help me, we can find your father, and get you home" she assured him, still in a calm tone as if speaking to a particularly jumpy wild animal. She realized at once that this was entirely the wrong thing to have said. _

_The child, already pale, turned absolutely white. He shook his head silently, his face contorted in fear. "No..no..no…NO!" It began as a whisper and ended as a strangled shout as he backed slowly away from her, his eyes wide. "H-He'll k-k-kill me!" The boy pleaded, and she saw in his eyes that he believed what he said completely. _

_Although living in a convent was a sheltered lifestyle, the young woman still knew enough of the world to put two and two together. _

"_Oh, you poor child" she whispered. "Don't worry, we won't make you go back to your father. What's your name, child?" _

_Her statement seemed to calm him slightly, and he answered her "Sev-Severus Snape, ma'am"._

"_Alright, Severus, we'll find a place for you to live, don't worry" Her words were calm, but there was a fire blazing in her eyes that made Severus sure that she was indeed telling the truth. _

"Enough!" Snape growled, surprising himself a bit that he had actually said it out loud. He couldn't afford to drown in memories of the past; it was over and done with, and no amount of tears or regrets could change that. He couldn't afford to go soft, not now.

With that, Snape got up, and forced himself to think rationally, of the present, not the past. He paced up and down his study, trying to think of some viable solution to this newfound problem, but none came readily to his mind.

Suddenly, Snape doubled over in pain as the Dark Mark tattooed onto his arm burned his skin. If he hadn't felt this same horrible pain countless times before now, he wouldn't have managed to contain the small cry of pain that almost passed from between his lips. _He _was calling. Snape hadn't expected a summons to come, not so soon after the last, but now that it had come, he had no real option but to go.

He pulled a dark cloak and white mask from where they always lay, ready for these unexpected calls, and unceremoniously threw them on over his robes.

Merlin, the pain was getting worse! What the hell did _he _want _this _time? Although he could hardly straight, Snape managed to calm himself sufficiently to Occlude his mind, hiding his true thought far deep inside his mind, where no one would ever find them.

Snape muttered a word under his breath, and, for once thankful that he could manipulate his anti-apparition wards so easily, apparated to the Dark Lord's side.

Only once he had arrived, and it was far too late to do anything about it, did he realize that, in the confusion of the summons, he had forgotten to reestablish the wards guarding his study.

_A/N At the risk of sounding like a Nike commercial, Just Do It. Press the little purple button and type out a few words as a review. Liked it? Hated it? let me know. Criticism is better than nothing at all. I should be updating in the next week, so you won't have to wait too long._


	5. Chapter 4: A Glance to the Past

_A/N: If you have been reading this, I apologize profusely for disappearing for so long. A nasty combination of Real Life, other bunnies which demanded to be pursued (a.e "Revenge" and "Lament" on my author's page), and plain and simple writers block all mixed together caused this to take so incredibly long. Hopefully, I'll be able to update this more frequently, but I won't make any promises I won't be able to keep in the way of "deadlines"; life is hectic right now, and, sadly, school comes before fan fiction. A Huge thank you to my wonderful beta Plaid Slytherin; if not for her, this chapter would probably still be gathering dust on my hard drive. I own none of this, at all. Also, I wrote this scene, or at least the precursers of it, before DH, and there is a scene in here which is eerily remeniscint of canon. I debated leaving it out, but I need it for my story, so I left it in. I hope you enjoy it._

The first thing Ginny noticed when she awoke was that the pain she had felt before was now gone. Her eyes fluttered open, and took in the room which surrounded her. Dark colors were prevalent everywhere, and strange menacing-looking artifacts rested on shelves leaning precariously against unfamiliar walls.

'It wasn't a dream, then,' she realized, 'I really was captured, and now I'm here, and..' She gulped her mouth had suddenly gone very dry. Snape. Snape was here. Snape, the sarcastic bastard, the greasy bat of the dungeons, the murderer.

Cautiously, gently, Ginny tried to move her legs and torso into a sitting position, very conscious of the pain this action had caused the last time she'd tried it, and was keen not to repeat the sensation. Miraculously, no pain came. Pushing with the palms of her hands, Ginny managed to turn herself until she was sitting on the edge of her bed, her legs dangling inches above the floor. She gingerly lowered her feet to the floor, keeping a tight hold on the edge of the bed to steady herself. Other than a brief moment of dizziness, Ginny felt fine.

Seeing a crooked mirror hanging near the door, Ginny made her way slowly over to it, careful to keep her hand on the wall all the while. She may have _felt _steady, but Ginny had no desire to collapse, especially not _here_.

A thick coat of dust covered the old ornament, which Ginny brushed off carefully. Instinctively, Ginny knew she should check it for possible enchantments but without a wand, that wasn't really an option. A cloud of dust rose up, making Ginny cough and raise a hand to cover her mouth.

"Must not have used the thing in a while, has he?" she muttered to herself. "Wouldn't have wanted to, more likely."

Ginny surveyed the reflection that stared back at her with disgust. Her hair was tangled, and had found its way free from the piece of ribbon she had been using to restrain it. Her face was covered with dirt, and several cuts and scratches, although none bled openly.

The one thing that Ginny was immensely grateful for was the fact that she was still wearing the clothes she had been wearing on the day she had been captured, however long ago that had been. Anything else would have meant that "they" had undressed her, a thought which sent a shiver down Ginny's throat and made her more than a little nauseous.

Stepping back, Ginny absently fingered the ring that she knew to be on her left finger, even though it was invisible. Although the metal was cold, touching it gave her an inexplicable feeling of warmth, although it was accompanied by a pang that reminded her of the person who had given it to her, the person who was probably going mad with worry even as she stood here.'_No!'_ she told herself sharply, wiping away a renegade tear making its way down her face. '_Don't think about that!_' She knew that it wouldn't do either her or Harry any good if she suddenly became weepy and useless. Shaking her head to clear it, Ginny fixed her mind firmly on the here and now, and on what lay in front of her right now.

Specifically, what lay in front of her was an old wooden door which led out of the room that had been her prison cell for the past few days. Ginny wanted desperately to leave the room, but, as much as she hated her captor, she still was wary of his warnings not to try to escape.

"Well," Ginny said aloud, "I'm not trying to escape! Just look around a bit." Ginny wasn't sure if she was trying to convince herself or whatever protections lay embedded in the walls. Maybe she was just reassured to hear the sound of a human voice, even if it was her own.

Making her decision, Ginny stepped outside the door and into the hall. She screwed up her eyes and braced herself, as if waiting for some shock to come. When it didn't, she heartened a bit, and looked around at the old hallway.

Old and elegant looking pieces of art hung on the wall, portraits of witches and wizards with snobby looks on their faces looking down their abnormally large noses at her with disdain There were several doors littered at odd intervals up and down the hall, and all of them were shut tightly. All but one.

About twenty feet away from Ginny, a door was open, and a soft light emanated from the doorway. Ginny knew that she shouldn't go look, knew that she should go back to her prison-room, but she couldn't. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. Why would Snape leave a door open? Was he still here?

Walking forward carefully, Ginny reached the edge of the open door and peered through the small crack in the door hinge. She watched for a few moments, and, after seeing no sign of anyone inside the room, decided to venture in.

Once she was inside, Ginny saw what had been the source of the silver glow. In the corner of the room, she could see the edge of a Pensieve sticking out from under the curtain that she guessed had been meant to hide it. The silver glow seemed to pull her in, drawing her towards the beautiful basin.

Fingers trembling, Ginny clung to the Pensieve. Slowly, she touched the tip of one finger to the restless gray substance. Instantaneously, Ginny felt herself being flung headfirst into the basin.

It took Ginny a moment to regain her balance after falling into the Pensieve. Looking around, Ginny realized that she could see nothing; the room was dark. 'What's this?' she thought bitterly, 'is the bastard's memory being afraid of the dark?'

Her thoughts shifted when she heard a strange shuffling noise from what seemed about ten feet away. Ginny listened attentively as the noise continued a few moments more, before it came to rest directly in front of her.

The next thing Ginny knew, a voice, filled with a seemingly familiar tone of disgust, was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Jelly Slugs," and a door was flung open, bathing the room in torchlight. Whoever had opened the door was still cloaked in shadows, but now Ginny could see the room, enough, she hoped, to get some sense of where she was.

She seemed to be in some sort of a study, with a bedchamber visible through an archway on her right. Books lined the walls, and in some distant part of Ginny's mind she thought that, should Hermione ever find this room, she would probably either faint from happiness or barricade herself inside until she had finished all the books available--quite possibly both.

The door slammed shut, making Ginny jump, but not before the voice muttered "_Lumos." _The light from the wand illuminated the face beneath the hood, illuminated a pale face contorted in anguish and hair which, although it was hard to tell in this darkness, looked to be black as night.

'Well it is _his _Penseive, after all,' Ginny berated herself after this realization caused her a bit of a shock, 'he had to show up sooner or later.'

But what happened next so intrigued Ginny that it pulled her from her thoughts.

"Albus," the voice called sharply, taking a few more steps into the room. Ginny took a few steps sideways to move out of his way, even though she knew perfectly well that no one could hear, see, or feel her while she was in this memory. Even so, she didn't particularly like the idea of someone walking straight through her.

"Severus, is that you?" Albus Dumbledore's agitated voice rang out from an adjacent room. A few unintelligible words were spoken, and then the whole room was suddenly flooded with light. Ginny blinked, temporarily blinded. After a moment, she saw Dumbledore striding out of a padlocked room which he shut and locked behind him, his eyes narrowed together in confusion and worry.

"Yes, it is," said Severus Snape, as he threw back the cloak that had been obscuring his face. His voice was flat, and almost emotionless, but Ginny detected a current of anguish coursing underneath it.

"Sit down, Severus! You look ready to fall over!" said Dumbledore, a concerned look on his face.

"I am not about to fall over!" Snape snapped, sounding a bit like a petulant toddler being told that he was tired and needed to go to sleep. However, for once Ginny agreed with her former teacher; although Snape's physical manner may be tired, his eyes held the same alertness that they always had.

"Severus," Dumbledore said in a warning tone.

Snape returned his look with a glare for a moment or two, and then seated himself stiffly on one of the soft cushioned armchairs that littered the study. Dumbledore silently joined him in sitting, but didn't look at him at first, as though he was waiting for Snape to initiate the conversation. For a minute, Ginny thought that the headmaster wasn't going to get his wish, but then Snape began to speak, acting as if each word was being thrown forcibly from his mouth.

"I have recovered some new…information tonight that is crucial, you know," Snape said stiffly, before pausing once more.

'What's he so upset about?' Ginny wondered, very intrigued.

"A ceremony took place tonight, and several new Death Eaters took their marks. Among them was young Mr. Malfoy."

Dumbledore looked up at Snape, studying him carefully before letting his eyes relax. "Draco?" he said quietly, even though he, Snape, and even Ginny already knew the answer.

"Yes, _Draco!_" Snape spat, saying the name like it was a curse. "That asinine boy put himself in the Dark Lord's service tonight, put himself into what essentially will become willing slavery!"

"Severus, I'm so sorry," Dumbledore said in a pacifying tone, laying his hand gently on top of Snape's arm. "I know that you take it hard whenever one of your Slytherins decides to serve him."

Ginny was surprised to see that for a moment that there was remorse on Snape's face, but the next second it had reverted to its previous state of guarded anger. Snape jerked his hand away from the Headmaster's calming touch as if it were poison, and a soft hiss of inhaled air passed through his lips.

"That is not the information of greatest importance, Headmaster. Children are giving themselves up to his servitude quite often these days, and Mr. Malfoy is no different than any other child. I am not upset by one more mistake in a sea of many."

Dumbledore looked like he doubted the truthfulness of this statement, but, wisely, in Ginny's opinion, he said nothing of it, and just waited for Snape to continue.

"Mr. Malfoy has been given a specific task, one that, I believe, is intended as a punishment for those errors made by his _noble_ father, the most egregious of which, in the Dark Lord's eyes, was the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. I do not think that young Mr. Malfoy is intended to live to see this task to completion. His task," Snape's eyes flitted briefly to meet with the headmaster's before refocusing themselves elsewhere. "His task is to see you dead."

This news was not received by Dumbledore in quite the way Ginny would expect someone to react upon finding out that he was being targeted for murder; he actually took it rather calmly. It seemed a pretty good ruse on Snape's part; if he diverted attention to Draco, he could continue with his own plans to end the Headmaster unhindered.

The two men stared at each other, Snape glaring challengingly at Dumbledore, and Dumbledore just looking calmly ahead, obviously deep in thought.

Apparently tired of waiting, Snape finally said, "Well?"

Ginny was watching everything that occurred with her eyes riveted on the scene, which a little voice in the back of her head kept reminding her was pointless, since she already knew what this conversation would result in. She ignored it.

Dumbledore gave a sigh, and looked around the room once more, before looking back up, but this time, Ginny noticed a small change in his demeanor that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"He must not be allowed to go through with it," Dumbledore began.

"Well of course, Headmaster, I wasn't going to propose that we let-"

"Severus." The headmaster's voice was quiet, but so powerful that Ginny, and Snape as well, turned their complete attention towards him.

"You misunderstand me. He must not go through with his task," repeated Dumbledore, "but the task he has been set shall be completed." Ginny imagined that she wasn't quite as surprised as Snape was by this statement, all things considered, not that Snape ever showed surprise; his emotions and expressions were too well-schooled for that.

Snape realized what the Headmaster meant almost at once, being, as both he and Ginny had acknowledged in the present, not an idiot in the slightest.

"You mean to sacrifice yourself, then? Give yourself up for some boy who's too much of an imbecile to realize that slavery is never an acceptable option?" he hissed.

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh on the boy, Severus? After all, he is far from the first Slytherin to make such a choice. As much as you try to deny it, I know that you care for them, and that you take it as a personal insult when one of your snakes joins _his_ ranks. Draco must not tear his soul, must not become a murderer. Besides, I'm hardly going to sacrifice _myself_. You will help me in that regard."

"What exactly is it that _you_ are proposing, Headmaster?" Snape had risen from his chair, and his voice was colder than ice.

"I am proposing that you bring about my death, Severus. I am proposing that you kill me"

Ginny felt as though she had just been kicked in the stomach by something hard and fast, and that things were spinning strangely before her. Why would Dumbledore ask Snape to kill him?

Apparently, Snape either wasn't quite as shocked as Ginny was, or, if he was, he was failing to show any outward sign of it. He stayed standing, rigid, and his eyes continued to glare down at the Headmaster, still seated, but still stonily silent.

"No questions?" Dumbledore asked casually, as though he were talking of nothing more important than the Chudley Cannons' last match. "You aren't going to ask why I chose this?"

"I, unlike some, do not ask questions that I already know the answer to, Headmaster," Snape murmured silkily, sarcastic as ever. "I thought you knew me well enough to realize that. Having essentially acted as a spy for the last several years, I do believe that I have at least a feebly grasp upon basic strategic concepts.

Ginny shivered, although she couldn't actually feel the temperature of the air in the Pensieve. At this point, she didn't much care, however; her intention was focused fully on Snape, studying every line of his face in the hopes that it would tell her **something** about the man, seeing how her previous assumptions about him had taken a pretty formidable hit just then.

"You sensed that the Dark Lord's strength is growing, and that when he grew strong enough, killing you would become his most pressing priority, with the obvious exception of his fixation on killing Potter. If and when you die, I will be of no use to the Dark Lord, at which point I will be unable to collect information of any merit. You need a way for me to remain in the Dark Lord's good graces, although of your purpose and plan I have no idea, and this is your way of doing so."

"Ahh, Severus, you never fail to impress me," Dumbledore chuckled, reaching for a small dish on the oak table between. "Lemon drop?"

Snape gave Dumbledore a look which even Ginny could understand, "does it particularly **look **like I am in the mood for a lemon drop?"

"Why so anxious, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "After all, to a well organized mind, death is just the next great adventure."

As the mists of the Pensieve surrounded her once more, Ginny saw out of the corner of her eye Snape's pale face clouded with anger.

The next thing she knew, Ginny was being thrown head over heels out of the Pensieve and back out onto the floor of Snape's study. Her mind raced, trying to connect and comprehend all the information it had just absorbed. But instead of answering her many questions, all she could think of were more questions.

Why was Snape hiding this memory? Why would Dumbledore have asked Snape to kill him? Could the memory be fake? But if it _was _fake, why would he hide it? Surely he couldn't have anticipated her finding it!

If that memory was true, didn't that mean that…..

An icy voice cut in, sending a chill up Ginny's spine. "Enjoying yourself, Miss Weasley?"

_A/N: Cliffhangers are so much fun, don't you think? cackles. Anyway, if you've read this, and hated it, review. If you've read this, and loved it, review. Just press the button and type a few words. I'm not even picky about what the words are! Anyway, hopefully more soon, and probably before Nov. 1, although, again, don't want to make promises I can't keep, so for now that time will be more of a goal than a promise._


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